


The Wanting

by MoveTheUniverse



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Mild powerplay, One Shot, Shameless Smut, Standing Sex, Vaginal Fingering, dom!Mandalorian, sits somewhere in the original trilogy, sub!Leia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoveTheUniverse/pseuds/MoveTheUniverse
Summary: One night between the Mandalorian and the Princess.
Relationships: the mandalorian/leia organa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	The Wanting

The Mandalorian finds the princess alone, in her bedroom. He had slipped past her guards in the same way her smile had slipped past his defenses. He had wanted her, for so long, ever since their first meeting.

And now, because she had sent for him, he would have her. He moves forward, stalking into the fine room as if it was just another cantina. As if this was any other night and she was any other prey.

But it is not any other night. The Mandalorian knows that by the beat of his heart and the catch of his breath.

He knows it, because for many nights, this is all he has dreamed of.

She stands by the window, her back to him, clothed in something like moonlight-made-sillk. The fabric clung to all her curves, cut low enough to reveal the smooth expanse of her back.

The princess was beautiful, deadly, and soon, he hopes, would be all his.

“Don’t turn around,” he whispers, his voice catching on something impossible to name. He comes closer to her. Close enough to move the braids of dark hair over her shoulder. His hands, still gloved, feel too clumsy to touch such fine locks.

But if what her message said was true, he would soon touch something far finer--her body. 

“I… I won’t,” she replies. It only takes her those two words to find the courage that had so intrigued him. “I sent for you, after all.”

“And I came.” He’s embarrassed to realize the entendre makes him blush and is glad for his helmet, hiding his expression.

“So you did.” True to his request, she remains facing the window. He can see her reflection though, and notes the wistful look on her face. Has she thought of him just as often? 

His gloved finger traces a single line down her spine. “Do you always wear such fine dresses?”

She laughs, a sound he thinks he will treasure as much as any other moment from this night. “No. Only for tonight.”

“For me?”

“Yes.” The single word sounds more like a sigh.

“And do you think of me on other nights?”

“I do.”

“I like knowing that.” Good. She has thought this through. This is no fleeting fancy for her either. “I like the thought of you in bed, thinking of me.” Perhaps even touching herself, thinking of him? He is no innocent, has watched holos of women pleasuring themselves. He knows how they look, how they sound. They had been pleasant to watch, when he needed to.

But now, he finds the thought of Leia doing such things far, far more delicious. Hunger coils deep within him, a beast that demands to be sated. His finger slides back up her spine, and then, over her shoulder, pushing the sleeve of her gown down. From the reflection of the window, he can now see the curve of the top of her breast, from where the nightgown hangs looser. He does the same to the other shoulder.

Calmly, Leia says, “I assure you, you’d find me just as appealing on a shooting range.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees. He studies her as if she is a puzzle, as if there is some combination of touch, of words, that he must complete, in order for this hunger to be sated. But isn’t there? Isn’t that what drove him back to her side, to do this most foolish of things?

His hands skim down, smoothing over her breasts for the shortest of moments. Enough to feel her hardening nipples beneath the silk.

Enough to be sure that they both are filled with the same hunger.

What more than pure hunger, a desire for not the hunt of a target, but the hunt of passion, could drive him close to straying from the Way? “And do you find me appealing?” he asks.

“Very.”

“How strange,” he says, even as his hands go to her hips, pulling her against him. Showing her that he wears no armor there, only his loose trousers. Showing her his desire is rampant, stiff against the curve of her ass. “You haven’t seen my face.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Good,” he says. “Because I cannot give you permission to see it.”

“Can you give me something else?” Instead of fighting against the pressure of his curled fingers, Leia instead rocks her hips against him, like a wave, coaxing his desire harder.

“Depends on what you want, princess.”

“I want you…” She begins, just as his thumbs start to push the fabric of her dress up, so the cool breeze whirls around her legs. “To say my name.”

“Is that all?” 

“No, but it is a start.”

“Very well,” he replies. His mouth waters. He wishes he could kiss her. But the helmet remains on, keeping him from completely losing himself in this moment. “Tell me what else you want, Leia.”

A happy sigh escapes her. “You know what I want.”

His fingers slide between her thighs, and up, cupping her core, finding it covered by a scrap of lace, which seems neither practical or durable. It is also quite soaked, which pleases him. “You want me.” He says it as a statement.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Good,” he replies. He presses the lace against her, using the friction of it to brush against her clit, until her breath catches.

“I am not your first?’ he asks, based on her comfort at such intimacy.

“No.” She pauses. “Is that acceptable?”

He considers for a moment. “Yes.” After all, she is not one who follows the Way. Not yet. Perhaps he will convince her. With time. With passion. With the heat of his body and the roar of his desire.

Then he asks, “will you be with child?”

“I better not fierfeking be.”

The Mandalorian pauses for a moment, fighting against all his base urges to drive in deep and hard, to take her as desperately as he has dreamed of. The Way would not allow that. The Way, in fact, comes close to disallowing even this.

But one who follows is granted relief from their hunger, should their need begin to interfere with their hunt.

And oh, has his prey interfered with his hunting, crossing his mind at the worst times, disturbing his sleep.

It’s time to take her, to free his mind of the distractions that Leia, that his prey, has given him these long months. He tenses, his hips rocking forward. The tip of his cock slips forward, into her. Leia’s own breath catches.

But that is all he allows himself at first. He must not let the passion conquer him. He must be master over all his emotions. Even, or perhaps especially, this one. SLowly, he rocks forward, then out.

She gasps.

He smiles.

Again, he presses forward. Only enough for his tip to press against her entrance, enough to give him a jolt of pleasure…. Followed by a craving by more.

“Fu...fuck me,” she begs. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to lose control,” he replies. Idly, his free hand toys with her clit, noticing how the smallest of movements from his thumb send ripples of pleasure over her skin.

“Trust me, it’s already...g-gone.” 

“Is it? I expected more from you.” 

“And I expected more from your cock.” Her voice is sharp, imperial. Intoxicating. It’s enough to heat him with some new emotion. Some competition burns within him.

His hand on her hip tightens, bending her over. Then, with a hushed roar, he pushes deep within her, fighting against the tightness that drives him mad, builds something as urgent as the need to hunt within him. His body slams against hers, again and again, each time making her cry out with delight. 

The edge of his helmet rests on her delicate shoulder. He wonders if she can hear his shortness of breath, if she knows how much pleasure she is giving him.

He wonders if she knows how dangerous she is.

“More,” Leia gasps. Amazed, he watches as her own hand rubs her breast, toying with the stiff nipple peaked beneath the silk. She whines, rolling her hips as if to take him even deeper. “More, please.”

“Let me,” he replies. His gloved hand covers her own, massaging her breast with as close to gentleness as he can manage. All the while, he is thrusting, hard, into her, feeling his release grow closer and closer.

For a moment, he imagines how good it will feel, once he has spilled out all his pent-up desire. Some nights he had resorted to using his hand, savagily coaxing pleasure from his own body, thinking only of her.

But it had been nothing like this.

This was hot and slick and somehow tender too. This was so much more than just physical pleasure. He knew what an orgasm felt like, had them plenty of times before.

But he had never come with someone else, in something like a harmony of pleasure.

He wants that.

Wants to know what she sounds like when she loses control.

Carefully, the Mandalorian slows his frantic thrusts, aware he is nearly at the point where he wouldn’t be able to pull back. 

There is a mission he must do first. Slowly, he circles her nipple with the edge of his fingertip, letting the glove’s coarse fabric rub against the smooth silk. Even slower, his other hand glides back and forth over her swollen clit, enjoying how her legs tremble at the touch.

She is soaking wet for him. She is so close to her own orgasms, which is exactly what the Mandalorian wants.

“Please…” she whispers.

“Please what?” he asks.

“Go back to fucking me?” she asks. “You’re good. You’re so good. I want…”

“I want you too,” He promises, rolling his core forward, just once, so she can feel him move within her. “And I will. Leia, I will do all that you ask. But first… “

He pulls out, despite her soft whine of protest. That allows him to move his hand there instead, working her with skilled fingers. “But first, you, Leia. My Leia.”

That is is mission, now. He wants Leia to come first.

While his fingers move against her spongy spot within, making her hips rock up, and her breathing falter, he pinches her nipple. Hard. The idea comes to him, based on how much she had enjoyed the rough way he’d played with her clit. His princess, his prey, is stronger than she looks. Strong enough to match his desire and perhaps best him at that.

The Mandalorian likes that about her.

Leia’s whole body stills, her jaw dropping in a silent cry. Only then does he remove his fingers and once more enter her. He feels her release in a way he never knew he could, as her core shudders around his cock, making him fight all the harder to move. He loves that feeling, he releases, and pushes through it. To keep her there, his hands work together. One on her breast and one on her clit. Both of them rougher than he would have thought she wanted, but it is enough to bring her back to the edge again.

Then, she cries out as she comes once more.

He’s only aware of her now. Aware of her breathing, her wetness, her tightness. Aware of how, right now, he feels his only purpose in the whole universe is her pleasure. His body was made for this, he feels. Made to fit with her, to move with her. No longer hunting her, instead, they are together chasing an impossible quarry--endless, perfect bliss.

For one breathless moment, as she starts to shudder once more and his own body responds, his thrusts more frantic, his breathing more shallow, the Mandalorian thinks they have reached that impossible place.

And then he comes, hard and fast. The Mandalorian’s hand moves back to her hip, holding her there as he jerks forward, pushing in one last time, before his whole body goes slack.

Something like true peace washes over him. His other arm curls around her, holding her against him. Even through the limited armor he wears, he is sure she can hear his heartbeat. 

“I want you too,” he finally says. “Leia. Princess of Alderaan. I want you.”

“I know.” Her reply is simple, but he can hear the smile. That is its own sort of bounty, a reward just as good as that which he had found within her. “And you will have me again, I think. When our paths cross once more.”

“So you have spoken,” he whispers. “May the Way bring me to you once more.”

She turns then, carefully, to face him. Her hand cups his helmet. She leans forward, resting her forehead on the edge of the helmet. Even through its filters, he can smell her; a mixture of flowers and sweat, perfume and sex. “And may your Way be one with mine, someday, Mandalorian.”

"It will be," he promises and knows that this hunt is over. He has captured his prey and now, the future is theirs to spend, together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! Comments welcome. Might write more if this gets any interest from readers :)


End file.
